


Private Stuff

by alba17



Series: Marvel Shipping Games Ficlets [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Coming Out, F/F, Fluff, Friendship, Gen, Male-Female Friendship, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-19
Updated: 2014-11-19
Packaged: 2018-02-26 07:16:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2642918
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alba17/pseuds/alba17
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Natasha won't let Clint in her bathroom. He's determined to find out why.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Private Stuff

“Clint, wait, before you go in there….” Natasha rushed over and tried to bar Clint’s way into the bathroom.

“Jesus, Nat, I gotta go. What d’you have in there?” He craned his neck this way and that to try to see past her.

“Never you mind,” she said as she turned him around by the shoulders and marched him to the door of her apartment. “We’re going out. You can use the bathroom at Starbucks.”

“What the hell?” He continued his grousing as they went down the stairs and out the building.

*

While Clint was in the bathroom at Starbucks - he’d complained non-stop as they waited in the interminable line to put in their orders and practically ran when they finally got their drinks - Natasha pulled out her phone and quickly texted: “ _Get in my apartment as fast as you can. Clean out the bathroom of you know what. Clint’s staying over and he doesn’t know about us. Yet.”_

Their entire time at Starbucks was basically an interrogation designed to ferret out the truth about why Natasha didn’t want him to go in the bathroom. Clint tried to disguise it, but it was obvious. “Listen, I’m not telling you what was in the bathroom, so just quit it. A girl’s gotta have some privacy,” Natasha said.

“Was it your unmentionables hanging in the shower? I’ve seen you naked and also doing your laundry. Sometimes at the same time.”

“I decline to answer on the grounds it might incriminate me. Just stop it. I’m not telling you, so it’s no use.”

“What? A diaphragm drying on the sink? I’ve seen that too.”

“Oh god, Clint.”

“Um, okay, stained panties? You know I don’t care about a little blood.”

“You’re disgusting.”

“Apparently not as disgusting as whatever’s in your bathroom.”

Natasha jutted out her jaw. “It’s not…” Then she clammed up.

Clint grinned. He kicked her gently in the shin. “Go on.”

Natasha sipped her coffee. “These pumpkin spice lattés are really good. You should try one.”

“I’m sticking with black, thanks. Now, back to the topic at hand… It’s a pregnancy test, isn’t it? I assume I’ll be the godfather and you’ll be naming it Clint Jr., right?”

Natasha rolled her eyes. “You get first dibs at the kid’s archery training.”

“Do I have to pull out the best friend card?” Clint did his best attempt at doe eyes, which was woefully inept. He didn’t have an innocent bone in his body.

“Hold on.” Natasha thumbed another text: “ _If you’re still there, stay put. Coming back with Clint.”_ “Come on. We’re picking up a bottle on the way home. You might need it.”

*

“Honey, I’m home!” Natasha called out when they got back. “Clint, I believe you know Agent Hill,” she added facetiously. 

Maria was sprawled on the couch, looking fine in skinny jeans and a short black leather jacket, her hair down and loose. She threw down the copy of _Martha Stewart Living_ she was thumbing through. “Hey, Clint.”

Clint’s mouth fell open and he slowly put down the brown paper bag containing the liquor on the coffee table in front of Maria. “Are you saying Maria was in the bathroom? Like, what, hiding in the shower?” he asked Natasha.

“Er, no,” Natasha said.

“So you two are…?” Clint waved a finger between Maria and Natasha. 

Natasha went over to the couch and sat down next to Maria. She put an arm around her and kissed her on the mouth. “Together. Yep.” They grinned at each other. 

Clint eased himself into an armchair. “Wow. I had no idea.”

“We know,” Maria and Natasha said in tandem, which made them both giggle.

“Go on, fix yourself a drink. I know you need it,” Natasha added.

“Yeah.” Clint went to the kitchen to get glasses, then poured them all some vodka. “So how long?”

Natasha looked at Maria. “Not too long. A few weeks.”

Clint looked at them appraisingly. “Well, I’m happy for you. At least you don’t have to hide anything from each other.” His mouth quirked, like he spoke from experience. He raised his eyebrows. “Can I go in the bathroom now? Seriously, what was up with that? I’m trying to find a connection.”

Natasha blushed and traded glances with Maria. “Just um, stuff you didn’t need to see. Private stuff.”

Clint looked confused.

“Seriously, you two. For god’s sake. _Bedroom_ stuff,” Maria said.

Clint’s eyes widened. He looked between them and started to turn red. “Oh, you mean…” He broke off abruptly and he threw the rest of his vodka down his throat. “Do I have to leave now?”

“No, silly,” Natasha said. “I wanted Maria to stay for a little bit so we could tell you about us, but she’s leaving. You’re always welcome, Clint. This doesn’t change anything between us.”

“Good. Um, so is the bathroom safe now?”

Maria and Natasha laughed. “Yeah, I told Maria to put everything away, that’s why she came over. You’re safe.”

“Okay. Because you don’t want to know about the images in my head right now. I might have to spend a little private time in the bathroom, if you know what I mean.”

Maria wrinkled her nose. “Ew.”

Natasha threw a pillow at him. “Gross!”

“What? I’m a guy. I can’t help it. Besides you started it with all your talk of…” he gestured with his hand, “…private stuff.”

“That’s it,” Natasha declared. “Get over here.” She patted the couch next to her.

Clint’s eyebrows shot up. “Yes, ma’am!” He raced over to the couch and plopped down.

“Wait a minute,” Maria said. “What…”

Natasha winked at her and promptly attacked Clint under his arms. He collapsed, laughing, trying to fend off the tickle fight. “No, no!” He giggled. “Stop! Not fair. You led me on.”

Natasha laughed. “That’s what you get for being a jerk.” She pinned him down and Maria joined in, getting him behind the knees. 

“Okay, okay, stop! I’m a pig. I apologize.” He held up his arms, doing his best to keep them away, unsuccessfully. 

They all laughed, limbs tangled together, sofa pillows in disarray. Natasha and Maria paused their tickling, breathing heavily. Clint’s hands were in front of his face and he said in a little voice, “So can I at least see the sex toys now?”

The women both yelled, “No!” and started tickling him again.

**Author's Note:**

> For marvelshippinggames' Bonus Round, prompt from Texts From Last Night: (614): I apologize in advance for the number of sex toys drying on the bathroom sink.


End file.
